Silence
by Heroes Fly-Minho's Hero Limps
Summary: Unrequited. It's the worst kind of love. And Max knows better than anyone. (Based on Grievers, Minho, and Other Wicked Things)
1. Chapter 1

Silence

**hey, guys! Sorry, this is another rather depressing one-shot. (Though it might turn into a two-shot. Maybe.)

I would like to thank Nalbyismylife for requesting this and giving me the idea to write it. :)

Reviews are always appreciated. Let me know if you want this to be a two-shot, because Max needs some love, doesn't he? DX

Enjoy!**

...

Max had a problem.

A serious problem.

And it was slouching sleepily on a chair next to him in the Map Room this very second.

"Shuck, Max, how far did run today?" Minho stifled a yawn, slumping down farther in his chair. He rubbed at his eyes in obvious tiredness.

Max's foot was fidgeting up and down under the table, his nervousness revving up by the second. "Um, a lot," he answered dumbly. "We went from Section Four to Eight so...yeah. A lot."

"Ughh," Minho groaned. "Kill me now."

"I would, but then no one would be around to kill me." Which was true; it was one of the few (and treasured) times that they were alone in the Map Room. Max ran a hand over his short, spiky red hair and used the movement to sneak a glance over at his Keeper. Minho was stretching his arms above his head, showing off the lovely flex of muscle in his powerful arms. His denim shirt rode up an inch, revealing a sun-kissed band of skin at his waistband. Max wilted at the sight. Jesus, Minho was gorgeous.

"So what do you think about the newbie?" Minho asked suddenly. His voice was curious, casual. But it was hiding something.

Max thought. The Greenie, a blonde named Newt, had recently joined the Runners. He was pretty good at it, though he had woken up a Griever two days ago, on his first day. It was not an experience Max cared to repeat. But he liked Newt; the blonde had become a good friend to him. "He was a stupid idiot, waking up a Griever," Max replied at last. "But he's good at being a Runner. I guess I like the kid."

"Hm." Minho was looking at his boots under the table, folding his arms over his chest in thought.

Max tried for an encouraging smile. "You made a good choice, Minho."

Minho jerked slightly. "What?" he asked, nearly defensive.

Max blinked. "You made a good choice when you picked him as a Runner," he explained.

"Oh. Oh, right." For some reason, Minho avoided Max's gaze, almost...sheepishly? "I guess."

The strange behavior made Max remember something from a while ago, something Minho had said. He studied his Keeper carefully. "He's kinda cute too," he remarked conversationally.

Minho glanced at him sharply. "You think he's cute?" he asked, saying "cute" like it was some forbidden word. "Cute how?"

"Well, I mean, he's got that blonde hair and that accent that most girls would go nuts over."

Minho's gaze slid back to his feet. "Blue eyes," he mumbled, half to himself.

Max felt a little prick of hurt in his heart. "Yeah. I know a few guys who would like to have him."

Minho's eyes flared at that. He scoffed. "Please. He'd never go for any of them."

"How do you know?" Max asked in surprise.

"I just do."

Max's heart sank. "You like him, don't you?"

Minho glared at him, bristling. It was a dark look that he always had when he was going to deny something, tell you you were full of crap. "No."

"You're lying."

"Max."

"I can tell you're lying; I can see it."

"MAX."

"You...you LIKE Newt." Max gaped at him, because he was now really really realizing it. Minho, his fearless, Keeper, was falling for a newbie. A freaking NEWBIE! Someone he'd hardly known at all! And he should've been falling for—

"Dammit, Max, what the hell is wrong with you?" Minho demanded. His exhaustion had been temporarily forgotten. His deep, dark eyes sparked angrily. "Why do you care if I like some Greenie?"

Max stared at him desperately. He could feel the emotion filling up his lungs, his heart, suffocating him the way it had since Day One. He was so sick of this. He wanted to be wanted. He wanted to be loved. "Because I like you," he blurted out, before he could think better of it.

Minho's eyebrows flicked up, his body stiffening. "I thought..."

"You thought what?" Max asked. Stupid stupid Max! he thought. You've ruined everything now!

"I thought it was just some stupid crush."

Max's heart froze. "You knew?"

"Of course I knew." Minho glanced down at where his fingers played with a button on his shirt. "It was easy to see, Max. Brian always made fun of you about liking someone when I was around and you've been staring at me for the past half hour. A blind moron could see it."

Max flinched at the harsh tone. "You don't have to be so mean about it," he muttered, dropping his eyes to the floor. "I understand, okay?"

"What d'you mean, you understand?"

"I just understand. Let it go."

"Well, what do you mean, Max? Jesus, it's just a question."

"I just get it, okay, Minho?" Max snapped. He glowered at Minho brokenly. His chest felt like it was full of deep, awful water. "I get that you don't like me back. I get that you're in love with Newt."

Minho stuttered at that one. "I'm not in—in love with Newt," he protested.

Max shot him a look. A serious, no-sarcasm look. "Minho."

Minho scowled at him stonily for a few seconds more. Then his shoulders fell and he released a long sigh. "Damn." He dragged his fingers back through his black hair, mussing it. "Okay. Okay, maybe I do have...a couple feelings for him. But that's—"

"Minho," Max repeated, even harder this time.

"All right, fine, maybe more than a couple feelings, but—"

"MINHO."

"Dammit, Max, what do you want me to say?" Minho looked at Max with anger and defeat tangled up in his expression. "You're right. Okay? You're right. That freaking Greenie drives me crazy. I'm going out of my mind, Max, and I can't figure out how to stop it. How do I stop thinking about him, and worrying about him, and—and—" He broke off, shaking his head. He only ever confessed like this to close friends, which was why he was willing to say this to Max. "And loving him," he finished quietly.

Max wanted to sob at the words. He could feel the suffocation inside of him building more and more. It sucked being right. It sucked knowing that Minho loved Newt. The whole, shucked-up world sucked so much, making the person he'd give anything for fall in love with someone else. He trembled. "I...I know how you can stop thinking about him," he admitted in a small voice. "And worrying about him. All the things you said. I know how you can forget."

Minho looked at him for a long moment. "How?"

And without thinking, Max kissed him. He knew it was a bad idea. This was a mistake. But he did it anyway. He needed it. He NEEDED it. As soon as Minho's mouth brushed onto his, so heartbreakingly soft, he completely melted.

Minho froze under Max's touch. It was clear that he hadn't expected this. At first, he did nothing, even lifting one hand as though to push Max away. But then, slowly, the hand fell on Max's neck and he closed his eyes. Max was astonished when he felt Minho kiss him back. He didn't know what to do for a second. But Minho's thumb was pressing gently against his jaw and damn, his mouth was so addictive... Max kissed back harder, angling his head. He heard a little gasp from Minho and, God, the sound sent shocks down his spine. Please, he thought, he begged. Please, love me.

"No," Minho growled out finally. He dropped his hand to Max's shoulder and pushed him back. His eyes were dark, but not with passion or love. Not the way they were with Newt. "I can't, Max. I'm sorry."

Max's entire body shivered from the effects that single kiss had on him. He swallowed hard and lowered his eyes. "I know."

"Shuck, I'm not good at this," Minho muttered, rubbing the back of his head. Then he sighed heavily. "Listen, Max. There's...there's someone out there for you. There's someone who could love you. But it's not me."

"I know," Max mumbled. It seemed to be the only thing he knew how to say. He was heartbroken. For one moment, just one beautiful moment, he'd thought that maybe he had a chance. Maybe Minho would realize that he and Newt weren't meant to be, and he would look at Max the way he looked at Newt, with so much softness. But any fool could see that Minho and Newt belonged together. There was no question about it.

So where did that leave Max?

Minho searched Max's face intently. "Max? You okay?"

"I'm fine." Max took a deep breath.

"You sure?"

And Max did the bravest thing he'd ever done. He smiled. "Yeah. Don't worry about it. It was stupid." He pushed down his disappointment and added, "it's just a crush anyway. I'll get over it."

Minho studied him critically. Then, finally, he nodded. "Okay. If you're sure." His mouth quirked into a suggestion of a half-smile. He started to push up out of his chair. "Well, I'm gonna go find the other Runners and make sure they're not trashing the Glade without me to help them. Dee's probably gotten Gally to punch him by now. You wanna come?"

"Nah. I'm gonna stay here and sleep for a while. I'm exhausted. Tell Brian I said hi." Besides Minho, Brian was Max's closest, best friend.

"I will." Minho crossed the room and pulled open the door in one motion. Afternoon sunset light bathed the Map Room for one glorious second. Then he slipped out and shut the door. Dimness fell over the room again. It left behind a quiet unlike anything Max had ever known.

With no one to see, Max folded his arms on the table and buried his face in them.

"I love you," he whispered softly.

When only silence greeted his words, he let the tears come.


	2. Chapter 2

-Sequel to Silence-

...

Max didn't know how long he was lying there, his shoulders shuddering with the sobs he tried to hold back. Every time he tried to compose himself, he thought again of Minho's perfect voice, telling him he couldn't love him back. It hurt. Dammit, it HURT. He buried his face deeper into his arms, folded up on the table in the empty Map Room. He felt like a shadow had filled the room, blackening the familiar stone walls and cluttered piles of maps. It was certainly blackening his soul. So this was what a broken heart felt like.

Why? Why him? Why couldn't anyone love him?

Swallowing, he forced himself up, wiping the tears from his face. "Stupid shuck-face," he muttered, scolding himself. He was a Runner. He shouldn't be in here, crying like a little girl. Exhaling raggedly, he tugged at the hem of his tank top and raked his hands through his mussed red hair. He had to pull himself together. This wasn't him.

"You're fine," he whispered fiercely, ignoring the ache in his chest. "You're fine."

He stood up abruptly, shoving his chair back with an ugly sound. His boots sounded roughly on the floor as he trudged sadly to the door. He was just about to pull it open—when it opened on its own. Blinking, he found himself looking into the dark brown eyes of Brian. Brian's eyebrows lifted with surprise, and then a small smile appeared on his face. But even the sight of Max's best friend couldn't lift his spirits.

"Oh, hey, Brian," he said, nearly mumbling. The despair wouldn't stay out of his voice. He tried to smile and failed miserably.

"Hey," Brian replied. He sounded happy. Good for him. He peered curiously over Max's shoulder. "Why're you in here...alone?"

"Um." Max scratched the back of his head. "Nothing. I was just thinking, I guess."

"Oh, okay." Brian didn't sound convinced. He jerked a thumb over his shoulder toward the sunlit Glade behind him. "You wanna come watch Gally try to beat Alby in a fight? It's gonna be hilarious." His grin was hopeful, dark-chocolate-brown hair tousled by the breeze.

Max shook his head. "Nah, I'll pass," he muttered. "You can go without me."

Brian's grin faltered. He studied Max for a long long moment. "You okay? You don't look so good."

Max barked a laugh. "Gee, thanks." He rubbed at his eyes, the ache gathering in this throat once more.

Brian squinted at him. "Max, were you...crying?" he asked, concern ringing in his words.

"No, of course not," Max scoffed. "Why would I be crying, shank?"

Brian's gaze darkened suddenly. He let out a long breath, crossing his arms in worry. "Because Minho came walking out earlier, looking like he just kicked a puppy," he replied seriously.

Max stared at him, desperately fighting the building tears and the awful pain in his heart. He would not do this he would not do this he would not do this. He opened his mouth to speak and all that came out was a choked sound of agony.

Brian's expression shifted then. "Oh, Max," he said softly, "I'm sorry."

Max avoided meeting Brian's gaze directly and whispered under the weight of his tears, "what's wrong with me?"

"There's nothing wrong with you, you're just—" Max stopped then, because Max's tears were escaping down his face. He touched Max's shoulders. "Come here, okay?"

Max let himself be pulled into Brian's arms, bringing his hands up to return the embrace. He clung to his best friend for dear life and pressed his face into Brian's shoulder. A sob racked his body. He trembled and felt Brian hug him closer. Hands rubbed soothingly into his back, meaningless whispers of comfort met his ears, and he squeezed his eyes shut. He was instantly grateful for Brian's presence. Brian was a good friend, a great friend. They'd come up through the Box one after the other, and were closer than family, really. He couldn't imagine life without Brian; it was like imagining life without his own arm.

He felt the softness of Brian's T-shirt under his cheek and breathed in his scent of autumn leaves and burning wood. Home. "What did I do wrong?" he asked hoarsely. "What did I do, to have him turn me into a wreck like this?"

"You didn't do anything wrong," Brian replied gently. "You just fell in love with the wrong person, that's all. It happens. It sucks, but it happens."

"I hate it."

"I know. I know."

"It hurts, Brian. More than anything."

"I know." Brian slid his hands up and down Max's back in a comforting gesture.

Max inhaled shudderingly. He realized he was holding Brian closer. "I don't understand," he whispered. "I've always been alone, ever since I came here. Am I really that...impossible to love?"

"What? No." Brian drew back then, searching Max's face. "You're not impossible to love, Max. You're the exact opposite. Okay?"

"Aw, shut up," Max mumbled, dragging his arm over his eyes. "You're just trying to make me stop crying like a dumb girl."

"No, I mean it." Brian tilted his head to meet Max's gaze. There was something like hurt in his eyes. "You're a wonderful person, Max. Anyone would be lucky to have you. You can make us all laugh like it's nothing, you're an incredible Runner, and those shucking green eyes drive me crazy—" He halted, realizing what he'd just said. A blush rose in his cheeks.

Max's lips parted in shock. He took a tiny step back, mostly because he was uncertain. "W—what?" he stammered weakly. "What do you mean?"

"Er, I...I don't..." Brian struggled to find words, turning even more red under Max's suspicious gaze.

Max's eyebrows rose as Brian hesitated even more and he put the pieces together. "Do you...have feelings...for ME?" he asked.

Brian looked as though he was fighting with himself. Then he snapped. "Shuck it, of course I have feelings for you!" he cried, voice shaky. "God, Max, I've had feelings for you since Day freaking ONE. You're my best friend, and you're a good person, and you're shucking gorgeous. I've wanted you to notice me for so long, but all you noticed was Minho and how bad unreturned love hurt. And you're right. It hurts like hell." Brian shook his head sadly, looking away from Max. There was pain in his movements. "I understand if you can't let Minho go. I do. But I can't let YOU go. I can't—" He broke off.

Max just stared in astonishment...and a dawning realization. He remembered all the little moments, the brushing of their shoulders together by the fire, the giddy laughter at inside jokes, the way Brian softened around him. He even remembered the one time they'd fallen asleep side by side in the Map Room, leaning against each other unknowingly. It was like gravity. He'd just never acknowledged the pull before now. Maybe he'd been chasing the wrong person all his time. Maybe he wasn't so hard to love.

"Just forget it," Brian muttered, jerking Max from his thoughts. The other boy was turning away, crestfallen. "It was stupid to think I could compete with Minho."

Max's heart jumped up into his throat. "Brian."

When Brian looked back at him again, he swallowed hard. "You're really in love with me?" he asked quietly.

Brian's shoulders slumped defeatedly and he nodded once.

Max felt some of the awful misery lift off his chest. Gathering his courage, he crossed to stand directly in front of Brian. Before the other boy could move, he cradled Brian's face in his hands, fingertips brushing dark, soft hair. Brian gasped slightly, a shiver running through him. Max drank in Brian's lovely features, the sun-kissed skin, almost-black, wavy hair, slim but powerful body. How had never noticed him before? How had he missed what was right in front of him?

"God," he murmured, stroking his thumbs over Brian's cheeks. Brian's eyelids fell shut with a sharp sigh. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I never saw you. Not like this."

Brian leaned into Max's touch, as though he couldn't stop it if he wanted to. "I forgive you, you dumb shank," he muttered. "Now, kiss me. Please."

Max couldn't take it when Brian begged, so he immediately brought his mouth down onto Brian's. He heard the soft whimper Brian gave, and felt the other boy's hands on his waist, but after that, all thoughts dissolved. He'd never imagined kissing Brian would feel like this. It was like flying and drowning at the same time, like he was drunk on this beautiful person, and more alive than ever.

Locking his fingers around curls of Brian's hair, he kissed him harder. Brian grabbed Max by the belt loops in reply and wrenched their bodies together. The kiss was electric, consuming. Nothing like he'd thought, but everything he wanted. Their chests brushed, their arms folding around each other, clinging to clothing and skin. When they finally broke the kiss, they were both helplessly breathless.

"Max," Brian breathed.

"What?"

"I—I love you."

Max let out a sound caught between a laugh and a blissful sigh. He kissed Brian's forehead tenderly. "I love you, too," he whispered. "I never knew until now and I'm sorry it took me so long."

Brian gave a joyful sob and hugged Max to him, ducking his head into the crook of Max's neck. "To hear you say that..." he trailed off brokenly. "I never thought you'd love me back. I—I never—" He halted, letting himself melt into Max's embrace. Another tiny gasp left him.

"Shhhh, it's okay, darling," Max hushed. He held Brian as though he was a treasured gift. He never wanted to let go. "I'm here now. I'm here. I promise, I'll be with you, always. I'm yours now."

Brian relaxed into him without a word, but this silence was so much more than simply not speaking.

Max smiled.

If this was what love felt like, then he vowed to keep it as long as he lived.


End file.
